Perception
by Messino12
Summary: Things are always what they seem.
1. Author's Note

I'm back!

And I shall spare you the mess of "I said I wouldn't..." and "I promise I..." because I just don't have time. I will say that one-shots are my specialty and that is probably the only thing I'm good at at this point in my fanfic career. If you've got any great story ideas that you think I could turn into a multi-chapter story, let me know!

There's a lot about Perception in this fic! Obviously. And what our subconscious does to us almost daily. You know, how we think we interpret something correctly upon the initial glance or thought, but then a few seconds later we realize we're totally off. Does that make sense? I hope so, because if it doesn't, this is going to be a long and arduous and highly complicated and confusing story to read. It's also all about reading into things, so feel free to let yourself do that with this story-it will make it a lot better for you! Hear what they're saying without me giving you an explanation. I hope that's not too much to ask.

This story takes place some time before Season 1 began, but after Fitzgerald Grant has been elected. You'll find out when as you read. Oh! I also HIGHLY recommend you listen to The Light by The Album Leaf (Oliva & Fitz's one minute song) either before or during your time reading this story; seriously it will make the story that much better, trust me! Everything that took place in Season 1 is understood as fact in regards to this story! Just like my other two stories.

We all know who owns Scandal and we know it's not me. Shonda Rhimes is amazing and I think I would cry from EMBARRASSMENT if she ever read any of my three stories. But that's beside the point.

I will say that this story is due to a fun suggestion by Neoyorquina! If you're not reading her story An Ounce of Truth for Every Treason you have literally been living in a hole or in captivity. READ IT. It will change your life. The Fitz she writes is one of my favs!

I recently added a little author's note to the end of my story Knowing, letting everyone know that I would take random, one line suggestions and see if I could incorporate it into a story or build a story around it. Neo's line is in this (see if you can guess which one it was & post it in your review!) as well as a few other one liner's I've been mulling over. Wrote this story in almost 2 hours so it flowed pretty quickly.

Thanks, lovelies, for reading! You really do make it fun!

PLEASE let me know what you think! And I'll still take suggestions for a fun story! Just cant promise or guarantee anything like I said before. Enjoy!


	2. Perception

He hadn't seen her today and it was already past noon and he thought he remembered her mentioning something about a lunch date with someone he couldn't remember but then halted his thoughts as he remembered that might have been yesterday? Tomorrow? He drifted out of his office and down the hall as he thought of her, busy and hard-pressed and excelling at all of it, just the way she'd always done.

He came to her office and the secretary waved him on, pointing with the hand that wasn't holding the telephone receiver to her ear towards the hallway across from them, to which he nodded and headed towards the room. He stumbled up to just a few feet outside the doorway as he saw her, absorbed and engrossed in rattling off a list of names he was sure he'd have to memorize to someone he couldn't identify at the moment and he watched her and realized the distance that separated them, that had separated him from parts of her only he knew. Various staff filed out of the room and down the hall, some shaking his hand and asking quick questions out of obligation, not interest and he continued to move towards the door as he caught her eyes and she caught his and he thought he recognized something about her that didn't belong. The lone staffer finally exited the room as he smiled at her and she gathered folders in her hands and sat down swiftly, moving papers out of the way and he thought back to her behavior over the past several weeks.

Schedules had been busy and he'd been gone for days at a time but that was nothing new. The hustle and bustle and newness had worn off over the past months and he'd found it difficult to see her as often as they'd both liked. But it wasn't just the schedule that told him she was preoccupied. The way she didn't linger in his office after a meeting or how her longing didn't seem pent up or frantic or desperately impassioned as they usually were when they were together, but how it seemed to be a deep yearning that her whispers stemmed from, desperate in their own way, or how she looked like she hadn't been getting enough rest.

She'd been like this before.

He'd caught her, granted it taken a few weeks, but he'd finally caught on to the subtleties. The expansive reach, the shaking hands, the slightly quivering lip. Too many formalities in the hushed moments gave way to a reticence they never had and he'd finally put an end to it before it drove him mad.

She'd thought she was pregnant.

And he'd cried when she wasn't.

He knew that wasn't the case now, but he knew something was up, and he tried to read her like he always did. He could tell by the way she didn't stay in his arms for long and how she didn't hold the eye contact that he knew she should and by the way she was smiling at him now as he walked into the room and shut the door behind him, her eyes soft, her breaths deep, her face worn.

He shuffled a few steps over and picked up the stack of papers she'd been looking at when he'd walked in, studying the figures and talking points but not retaining any of it. He worked at a conversation as it fell into the familiar, easy rhythm, and she was saying all the right things and he eased his mind by telling himself he needed more sleep and that she was just fine when she reached for the pages and sifted through them, her hand brushing his and lingering, her perfume taking over his senses because of their proximity.

He knew things were fine because she was the same as she always was, laughing at the barbs he tossed towards the speech-writers' use of "idiosyncrasy", standing, getting closer and closer and he assured himself that his previous thought had been a moment of irrational despondency as she sidled up beside him and he threw his arm around her shoulders, letting his arm dangle and tucking her in the space where he shoulder met his arm.

She was going on about how she'd take care of a few of the changes she'd suggested in an earlier meeting and when and where he needed to emphasize which and what words and he watched her. A wispy piece of hair escaped her half up-do and wafted across her cheek, just resting there and he reached out to put it back in place.

She looked at him then, turning her head and eyes to see him and he realized that she'd realized how impossibly close they were.

Her eyes flashed with something he didn't recognize and for a spilt second he started to recapture the thought he had about something being up, something throwing her off, but he tossed it aside as she watched him, not breaking eye contact and he knew everything was fine. They stood there, breathing each other in, their eyes darting back and forth across the other's face, just like they did in those stolen moments that were becoming few and far between because of hectic schedules, those moments when it wasn't anything physical, it wasn't about the flesh, it was just the two of them needing a moment to themselves, an attempt to put it all back in perspective. Those minutes where she watched him and he watched her and he smiled as he knew those were the minutes with her that he favored most.

His arm was still draped across her thin shoulders and she was still tucked into his body as she shifted slightly, but unnoticeably, towards him and didn't break his steady gaze. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers softly, relishing the feeling of her against him. The sweetness of the kiss had an innocence about it and he smiled slightly as he pulled away, leaving barely a breath between them before he captured her lips again and brought his free hand to the side of her face, loving the silkiness of the skin there. His thumb padded over her high cheekbone and he pressed his lips against hers harder before she brought her hand between them and to his chest, pushing off slightly and breaking the kiss.

He let her go, knowing she usually succumbed to her desire for one more before she left his arms, but he was surprised when she immediately turned her head down and away from him, moving out of his reach and to the end of the table in front of the door, picking up the papers scattered there and filtering through them.

That feeling he'd had when he first caught her eyes minutes before returned to the pit of his stomach as he watched the way the pulse point in her neck was throbbing and he knew it meant one of two things:

She wanted more or there was something she wasn't telling him.

Lucky for him, he thought, it was one and the same as he tossed yet again that nagging sense within him, annoyed that he kept going there, knowing she'd laugh when he mentioned it later.

He turned to face her fully and rested his hand on the chair pushed against the table as he continued to watch her, fairly certain he was correct in his assessment as she stood there, avoiding his gaze and being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Liv?"

She smiled, half-heartedly, and kept her eyes down on the task busying her hands.

"You know me."

Her admission was something she'd made before in regards to how getting carried away during the day wasn't going to happen, how things could only happen in rooms they'd designated and not adhering to the rules could cost them. But now, something in him shifted and he found himself taking steps away from the chair and towards her, knowing he needed to be closer to her.

"Hey..."

He was getting closer now and he knew she wasn't actually working as she reorganized the papers in front of her for the fourth time, moving them out of sequence and sending a few off the table and fluttering down to the floor.

"I...you know me...I..."

She was at a loss for words and it astounded him.

There was more she wanted to say and more he did too but instead he was moving even closer, suddenly needing to be there, to be where she was, in more ways than one.

"Livvie."

It was then that she raised her head to him and the look that was in her eyes when he first entered the room returned and he shook his head slightly, subtly enough that she didn't notice as she stopped the rustling of pages and stilled her motions as her breath came in a whisper and took him by surprise.

"_You know me."_

He didn't realize he'd frozen in his spot of the carpet until he realized she'd done the same and he was worried that she wasn't breathing and then all at once he was walking with fixed purpose and she was mimicking his steps just as slowly as he backed her into the space of wall between the corner and the door.

He was trying to understand but couldn't exactly as he put his hand on the side of her head on the wall behind her, trapping her with his body but allowing space between them. He was sure she'd put up a fight but when she didn't, he took it as a good sign and lowered his head to meet hers, grasping her lips with his own, more forceful than he had been minutes before.

Her response to the kiss was delayed and withheld slightly but he knew he'd won when she did, indeed, respond as he'd expected. His mind was playing such strange games with him today and he flung away the thought that wanted residence in his mind once and for all as he continued to savor the fact that they were so close. Everything was fine and he knew it was so.

He pressed a kiss to her lips again and then followed the curve of her jawline up to her ear and back down the column of her throat, slipping his other hand behind her to the small of her back, spreading his fingers in wide movement and swarming her neck with a flurry of kisses before capturing her lips with his once more.

He could tell by the way that she didn't react to the ordinarily tortuous and frenetic movements of his hands and lips that something had shifted inside her but he didn't take a breath to give her a moment to do anything about him being pressed against her in the cramped space of the room they were in as he reached to flip the light switch to the right of her shoulder to the down position, darkening the room completely with the exception of the streams of light bursting through the russet colored drapes covering the window.

She pulled her lips from his and let out a quiet but ragged breath as his lips reclaimed the spot on her neck where her pulse was hammering against her skin and he thought he had won, but realized her hands were still down at her side and raising slightly, finding balance against the fabric of his shirt and attempting to propel him away vaguely but he pressed against her attempts to rebuff him, dragging his lips lower to her collarbone. She was refusing more fervently now, still not saying a word but moving her head back and forth against him in an attempt to cause him to cease his movements, but to no avail. The feeling that kept knocking against his mind crept back in and he searched his mind for answers.

He was loosing her.

He kept her mouth at bay, forcing her to focus on what he was giving her, showing her, proving to her despite where he thought her mind had gone. He had mentioned weeks ago that he needed to dedicate more of himself to certain aspects of his life and he kicked himself as he realized it had been what had set this into motion. This feverish and manic moment he was trying to control by pressing more kisses to her neck and jawbone and up to her ear was the result of something he couldn't take back but most definitely, never in a thousand years, meant as a jab against her, and he remembered now her mention of how she worried someone might know, though they'd gone over a year without anyone suspecting. If she was thinking of doing something against him, he was going to change her mind and when her hands stopped her last-ditch urges against his chest he knew he had won.

"You're hurting me."

He stopped his movements just as suddenly as he began them as soon as he heard her desperate whisper meet his ears and the feeling he had returned fuller and stronger and with more gusto than he thought was possible. She'd said it the most platonically as she'd known how and he knew it wasn't a physical pain she was speaking of and he retracted his hand from the small of her back as her breathing filled his ears, deep and labored and painstakingly loud.

He pulled his lips from her neck as she moved past him, out of the corner and off of the wall, moving slowly to stand on the other side of him, straightening her shirt and re-tucking it into the back of her slacks. He watched her move her hands over her head and brush away the hair that had fallen around her face, her small, fragile back facing him full on, her shoulders shuttering and then straightening out with long, even breaths that filled her lungs and emptied his.

The secrets, the lies, the hiding had taken its toll on her as he had resentfully expected. The hushed and hurried moments of lust and love had carried her through but had not sustained her, and the moments where he whispered to her of what the future held had hurt her and not helped her. It was an unendurable and maddening and infuriating game they were playing and he'd be remiss to say he hadn't thought of what he could do to change it. At the end of the day, the secrets and lies and hiding were worth it and yes, because she was worth it and he loved her and they'd worked for it, but also because he loved his job and they'd worked for _it_. The secrets and lies and hiding were worth it because he'd wanted the best of both worlds. And he cursed himself as he realized he'd believed her when she'd said she wanted it too.

He ran a hand over mouth and chin and let out a strained breath as he watched her sweep her fingers across her swollen lips, smoothing out the skin that was covered with the fraughtness of his kisses, and he knew he'd have to spend a great deal of time working out what he wanted to say to her, without suddenlies and unexpectedness and full of truth and nerve and as she moved to the door he moved there too, standing so close he could feel the heat radiate off of her skin. She pressed her hand to the door and cast her eyes down as her head followed and he watched her pulse point pound once again and he couldn't make the distance in the air between them dissipate.

She stood there for longer than he'd expected and he knew she'd let him tell her what he wanted to and he rolled over in his mind every conceivable option as she lingered there, her fingers that were pressed against the mahogany door twitching every now and then and he sighed and opened his mouth to say something but couldn't find the words. The muted squeak of the hinge at the bottom of the door made the hairs on his arms stand on end and she opened the door swiftly and sauntered out, closing the door behind her.

He turned to face the table and walked towards it's edge, running his hands across the papers that lay there and picking up the ones that hand been swept to the floor. He calculating in his mind when he could tell her and how he would tell her and realized it'd have to wait as someone knocked and he went to the door, flipping the light switch and turning the door handle before he was whisked away towards another briefing, realizing he wouldn't get the chance to comfort her today. He'd find a way to tell her and then that feeling would go away once and for all and she wouldn't and he wouldn't have to worry any longer.

But in the morning, she was gone.


End file.
